


Those Who Don't and Those Who Do Deserve This

by ricochet (melas_chole)



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bad People, Coping, Depression, Drama, Feelings, Friendship, Good people, Loss, M/M, Power Dynamics, Romance, Self-Harm, Stress, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, ah and there will be hints for possible other relationships too, did I honestly forget to tag drama?, people who aren't what they seem, really bad people, self-destructive behaviour, this most certainly is, with capital D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12443847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melas_chole/pseuds/ricochet
Summary: Amanda is home for summer break and wants to know what her father has been up to. But there are reasons why he hasn’t told her much about some of his neighbors on the phone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta-read and only lightly edited by myself. 
> 
> It is an attempt of me trying to get back into writing and following the motto "better finished than perfect".
> 
> I shouldn't have been writing this at all today but should have prepared my seminar and if I spend any more time on this I will have to tell the kids on Monday "I'm sorry but my gay ass had to write angsty shit about a daddy dating sim, so there isn't much I will be teaching you today. Let's just call it a day!" But I really wanted to write this and get it out there! 
> 
> And there is a lot I have planned for this!
> 
> So, have fun!

“Here you go.” I hand a can of chilled soda to my daughter, who is wiping her pizza-greased fingers on a napkin. She smiles in thanks as she takes the can and I flop down on the couch next to her. 

We both open your cans with a sparkling hiss. “Cheers, pops! To summer break!” 

“To summer break!” We chinch your cans together. “And to having you back at home!”

“And to four weeks of unrestrained father/daughter time!” She toasts and I smile and watch her as she gulps down her drink. 

I’m so proud of her. 

And it’s so good to have her back! I have only seen her briefly for Christmas and that was much too short and much too long ago. Amanda exhales with relish after downing what was probably half of the can.

“I think we kicked that off nicely!” She decides approvingly and you follow her gaze swaying approvingly over the mess of empty pizza boxes, pizza rolls, garlic tip and chili flakes scattered around the table, Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers is running on the TV in the background.

Amanda draws her legs up onto the couch and turns towards me. Sitting on her legs she is propped up somewhat higher and I have to look up to her from where I am comfortably and happily slouched on the couch. 

“So...” She begins. “What have you and the good people of Maple Bay been up to while I was away?” 

I can’t help drawing my brows together. She wants me to tell her about myself and the neighborhood I’m really not sure I want to. But she looks at me expectantly. 

I sigh and take a long sip from my soda can. Oh man, this is really cold and sparkly! I have no idea how she managed to chuck the stuff down like that. 

“Aw, come on Dad, we talked so much about what is going on in my life, I want to know what’s happening in yours, too. And you rarely talk a lot about it on the phone.”  
She’s not wrong about that.

“A lot of the usual stuff.” I supply obligingly. 

“Brian redid his front porch and driveway…”  
“Ah!” I remember. “And he got the contract to restore the old part of the marina. So, he is doing that now.” 

I look at Amanda, she is actually listening to me intently. 

“The pet shelter had this huge PR thing at the fair some months ago. They raised a lot of money to build two outdoor pens and adoption rates went up as well. It was a huge success. Turns out the whole thing was actually Pablo’s idea!”

“Mat is probably right: his brain might not be as vacant as it seems!” 

Amanda glares at me judgingly for the bad pun and I laugh.  
She can’t help but grin as well. 

“So, has Damien still not managed to talk you into getting a dog?” She asks after some time. 

I frown at her over the rim of my glasses. 

“Daaad!” She whines exasperatedly. “You should really get a dog!”

“I’ll have to talk to him about conning you into adopting one!” She makes a not so subtle mental note to herself.

“I will have you know that for all that Damien loves those animals, he is quite understanding about not everybody wanting to actually own one.” 

“When Betsy was staying over at his place for a while, she managed to pee on the Victorian chaise longue in his sitting room and break one of his beloved tea sets: he was distraught!” 

I see various emotions battling on Amanda’s face. Her empathy for Damien furrows her brows but the mental image of the tiny dog wreaking havoc in Damien’s stately mansion finally wins over and she cackles with laughter. 

As we laugh I wonder whether my emotions are displayed as transparently on my face as hers are. Alex always said so. But it’s something I appreciate about Amanda. 

I haven’t noticed that she stopped laughing when she suddenly askes me. “So, why was Betsy at Damien’s place?” Something more serious mingling with the remaining laughter in her voice.

I stop laughing involuntarily. “Ah, um…he was just looking after her for a while.” I try to wave the question off, suddenly not feeling that light anymore. 

I scramble for something else to say. “Anyhow, if you want someone to con me into getting a dog you should probably talk to Mary.” I try for levity but I don’t know whether she buys it. “If you need anybody conned she’s probably your number one address.” 

Amanda looks at me for a while. 

“I will take note of that!” She finally says and drops the topic.

“Speaking of dogs.” I start again. I know she wants to hear more about the neighborhood and I try to come up with things worth reporting while carefully avoiding the things that would likely be considered most newsworthy. 

I will probably have to tell her at least some of it but I don’t even know how.

So I tell her about how Ernest and how he was becoming more and more difficult to handle up to the point where Hugo had to pick him up at the police station – but nothing too serious, I hurry to add, as Amanda’s eyes widen – and how it was taking a toll on Hugo.  
I hope that it is okay for me to talk about her former teacher like that.  
I tell her how they actually adopted a dog about half a year ago, a huge beast of a dog, which nobody wanted to adopt from the shelter for a long time. But Ernest apparently fell in love with her at the previously mentioned fair, which he’d probably only attended for some sort of adolescent mischief – I pause to express my gratitude that Amanda never caused me this much trouble and she punches me in the arm.  
After Ernest had convinced Hugo to adopt the dog, the boy had been downright enamored with the dog. For a while Hugo seemed even more stressed out than before with all the trying to keep up with the dog when he had to walk him, carrying tons of dog food into the house, the dog trashing a lot of their house and escaping regularly to do the same to the neighboring houses and of course the subsequent running around and apologizing to the neighbors for whatever she had broken. 

“She gnawed up some of the bannisters of our porch once.” I add. 

“Ah, that’s where they went!” Amanda nods at the explanation and I continue to relate that despite all the initial trouble the three of them managed to work it out and that Ernest finally seems to come around.

I tell her that by regularly hanging out at the Coffee Spoon – which is one of the things Amanda knows and greatly approves of – I have the pleasure of listening to Carmensita’s high school stories and watch Mat endearingly faltering to keep up. 

“You really have to go and see Carmensita! She has been dying to see you again. She hasn’t been talking about anything else since I told her you were coming!”

“I will!” She assures me, a fond twinkling in her eyes at the thought of the younger girl, very much looking up to her.

I take a sip of my soda. 

“After I have satisfied my desire to hear about my dad’s life!” She announces not without a challenge in her words. I stop lifting the can off my lips. 

“Come on, dad! Do you really think I didn’t notice you being all tight-lipped and cagey on the phone? You’re even doing it now!”

I sigh deeply as I let the can drop into my thighs and busy my hands turning it around uselessly. I should have known she wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily.  
“You know the whole ‘You can tell me everything’ thing goes both ways!” She asserts, her voice warm. 

I look up at her. When did she grow up that much?

She holds my gaze until I look away again. The Ghost Truckers are in a ridiculous fight with a possessed gas pump in the middle of nowhere. 

It’s not that I don’t trust Amanda and I guess I should honor her trust in me by showing that I trust her too. Also, I should probably take her seriously as an adult by talking to her as openly as I want her to talk to me but I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do… I mean, I am still her parent and she is barely an adult and… is this some kind of single parent thing? I guess people don’t talk to their kids about stuff like that when they have a partner to talk to? I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not right to dump all this serious shit on my daughter. But what wouldn’t I have given for my parents to take me serious and talk to me at her age instead of treating me like a kid and me finding out they had been separated for almost 5 years when I was 26. Also, telling that my uncle had cancer before he was actively dying would have been nice, too. Maybe she deserves to know what is happening in my life just as much as I want to know what is going on in hers.

“– Dad?” Amanda’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts.

“I’m sorry!” I mentally shake my head. “You’re right!”

He serious expression softens somewhat as if she is happy that I agree with her. Yeah, so this is probably right. 

Okay, so I tell her then? But what do I tell her? I try to sort through all the chaos in my head. 

I absentmindedly tuck the can between my legs and take my glasses of, scrubbing over my face with the other hand.

“It’s just…” I start.  
I give a frustrated groan for lack of words and put my glasses back on.

I roll my head sideways on the couch to look at Amanda. “Amanda!” I almost whine. “Manda Panda, I feel like my life has become a horrible Spanish soap opera!”

“What?!” Amanda holds her hand to her chest in mock disappointment. “And then you’re not telling me!”

She giggles and I manage a smile. She really is a good girl.

“Should I get the popcorn?” She teases.

“Yeah, you go on and mock your old man!” I tell her with a playful pout on my lips. “But do you really think you can manage popcorn after that?” There is not hurt in my words as I give the table before us a glance; this actually makes it easier. 

She looks at the mess resembling a deserted Western township with two leftover pizza rolls posing as tumbleweed. “Yeah…Probably not.” She concedes.

“Now spill!” She tells me and leans back, nestling between the armrest and the back of the couch. “The whole soap opera simile hasn’t made this any less interesting!”

For a while I try to think of where to start until I hear Amanda’s voice again, this time gentle.

“Is it about Craig?”

“Yeah, there is that...”

I sigh.

“How is he?” Amanda asks worriedly.

“Getting there.”

“You realize, you never actually told me what happened?!”

My mind clouds over when I think all those weeks back. It all seems so unreal.

“Yeah, that’s true.” I admit “Sorry, Panda.” I turn to look at her. 

She looks anxious. Although we didn’t have contact for so many years and Amanda can’t really remember him from when she was a baby, she seemed ready to accept Craig as something like a long-standing family friend. She knows he has become very important to me. 

“He had a heart-attack.” I finally say.

I watch her loose her countenance. “What?!”

I nod ever so slightly at her disbelieving face.

“But… but isn’t that something for old people?” I see her mind racing. “And he’s like…what…40?!”

“A little over, yeah.” I confirm. “But it’s not… The likelihood for heart-attacks increases after 65 or something but there are also younger people. There are a lot of different reasons why…”

“But he is so…healthy!” Amanda cuts me off, trying to make sense of this. “I mean, he is this rise and shine, happy, sporty, no fast-food or alcohol, spirulina drinking…” She gestures with her hands and then stops and trails off.

I reach out and grab her hand.

I wait for her to collect her thoughts, just holding her hand. 

She finally looks at me again. “How is this possible? I thought not smoking or drinking, eating healthy and exercising and all that stuff is supposed to prevent that? Shouldn’t he be the least person to have a heart-attack?!”

“There are other factors, too.” I tell her. “Like whether you have a predisposition or…”  
I pause a moment thinking about how to phrase the next bit. 

“There apparently also is some newer research that indicates, overexerting yourself too much and being under constant stress can contribute to an attack. And it seems that both of those were the case for Craig.” I circle my thumb over the back of Amanda’s hand as she looks at me, stunned. “His heart basically gave out on him.”

“But his healthy living helps.” I explain what the doctors had told Craig. “It means that his heart is not in an as bad a shape as it could be. And that he should be able to get better and be fine as long as he changes some things and pays more attention to himself and his health. Well, in another way than he already does.” 

Amanda nods slowly, thinking, and I let her.

After a while she grips my hand firmly. “Promise me to never get a heart-attack!” 

“Amanda!” I am shocked at her words and she rushes into my arm.

She wriggles one arm around my back, the other coming across my chest and she hugs me tightly as she presses her face against me.

I close my arms around her and try to calm her. “I’ll give my best!” I promise.

Amanda has already lost one parent and if something happened to me she would be…shit!

The thought hasn’t even crossed my mind before. I was only worrying about Craig and…

“I’m sorry, Amanda, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s okay.” She says after a while. “Only means I have to look after you better.”

“Oh! Oh no... Amanda!” I try to intervene. “It’s not your job to look after me! I’m your dad. It’s my job to look after you!” 

I sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her after all. 

“Your job is to go to college and learn and have fun and make friends and achieve your dreams and be happy!” I kiss her on her head. 

No, that makes no sense, I can’t keep certain things from her.  
But maybe I don’t have to tell her everything? 

I kiss her again and add: “And to visit your old man from time to time!”

She is quiet for a moment.

“But dad…” She leans backwards to look at me. “You see that this shows, you have to talk to me and tell me what’s going on and how you feel!” 

I don’t actually see or maybe I don’t want to see how this follows logically from what I have just told her but her voice and gaze leave little room for discussion. 

Well there goes my idea to tell her less.

“Promise me!” She demands.

I tug a strand of hair behind her ear – the bob really suits her – and sigh. “Okay, Panda, I promise!”

She seems satisfied and snuggles back against my shoulder.

“How are Hazel and Briar?” She asks. “And River?”

“They are okay. They went to stay at Smashley’s for spring break and between Smashley and me and some of the other dads we managed to give Hazel and Briar a more or less normal school routine while Craig was in hospital and after. River stayed with her mother longer but she is back now.”

Amanda listens while she is cuddled up to me. I stroke over her hair.

“When did this all happen?” She tries to remember when I told her that Craig was in hospital, although I had heavily glossed over it at that time.  
“Yeah, you mentioned something but I was busy with my project around spring-break, I wasn’t able to come back...”

“That’s okay, Amanda. I didn’t really tell you a lot back then. I didn’t want to worry you too much while you were in the middle of your photography project.”

She hums to that.

“How… I mean…can you tell me how it happened?”

I draw in a breath. “One night, while he was bringing River to bed. The twins were at a sleepover, fortunately.”

I feel Amanda’s hand tighten at my side. “But then…that means he was all alone!”

“Yes.” I tell her, my hand slowing down.  
The though still unsettles me deeply.

“But…?” She asks.

I really try my best to not let Amanda see that all of this still very much upsets me.

“Somebody found him.” Is all I manage to say. 

My hands have stopped stroking her hair.

“Who?” 

Of course she asks. 

“Who found him?”

I feel a lump forming in my throat.

When I answer even I can hear that my voice sounds forced.

“Robert.”


	2. Intermission 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Robert finds Craig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally!
> 
> I basically wrote the whole chapter and after one quick google search realized it was complete and utter bullshit. So I rewrote it and couldn't resist the temtation to spend most of my time researching every little detail... you know how it is.
> 
> But I've ultimately finished the chapter and am happy af.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

When Robert staggered home from Jim & Kim’s at shitfaced o’clock he found most houses in the neighborhood dark as per usual for a Thursday night. Or was it Friday already? Honestly, he didn’t know.

He was trying to get his shit together, and he was – he might have even made some progress in the last couple of months…or not, who was he to tell – but some days were just…

He only vaguely registered that the light was still on at the Kale’s house, which was probably unusual, but his mind quickly turned to the more important question: should or shouldn’t he have another drink before going to bed?  
Fact was, he could still form faintly coherent thoughts of questionable content and five drinks – five? maybe six drinks – weren’t all that much. With the natural grace of a drunken man, he stumbled off the curb and crossed the cul-de-sac for his own house.

Unlocking his door, he grunted at Betsy, who ecstatically came running to greet him. He threw his leather jacket onto the couch, before making his way to his kitchen: one more drink it was.

He poured himself another whiskey, with what was less verve than practiced defeatism, and after taking a swig from the crystal glass tumbler sauntered back into his living room. Betsy jumped around his feet, wagging herself more than her stubby tail, and he leaned town to briefly pat the excited dog before making his way to the lounge.

Robert plunked down into the couch and leaned heavily back into the backrest while the small terrier jumped onto his lap.  
He took another swig from his glass and petted Betsy.

The air in his living room was cold, as was his hand holding the whiskey tumbler. The dog was tiny and content as he stroked her warm fur. He let his head fall back onto the top of the sofa and sighed. Another day written off. Not much unlike himself.

\---

When he had spent enough time in the relative darkness of his living room to empty his glass and fill his mind with self-doubt, -loathing, anger and the suffocating fear that accompanied even the slightest bit of hope, he decided it was time to go to bed.

He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, mentally bemoaning that he didn’t feel nearly as drunk as he wished he was. Just tired. Having your life together wasn’t… frankly, it was a bitch!

 _Well, at least to some of us._ He thought sardonically as he reached the landing and his gaze, once more, fell on the house across the street.

The first floor and half of the second floor of the other house were still completely lit; even in the baby’s, what was her name’s room. He frowned through a cloudy vision and went into the bathroom.  
Robert splashed generous amounts of water into his face with his broad, cupped hands. _Odd._ He grabbed a towel to roughly rub over his face, bangs still dripping. In Perfect Daddy’s household everything was always according to order, he always went to bed at a ridiculous hour and got up at an even more ridiculous time: Robert could almost set his watch after it.

He went backwards, back onto the landing, towel still in hand. He peered out of his own window at the lights lit in Craig’s house. Livingroom, kitchen, the hallway and the baby’s room. Now that seemed excessive!

Even if the baby was teething or some shit.

Not that Robert was in any state to make a reasonable assessment of any situation.

He squinted his eyes and looked at the other house intently. As if he could make out anything through the windows.

Something was off!

He was hit by the sudden apprehension that something was very wrong. Before he knew it, he had thrown the towel away and was down the flight of stairs and out of his house; less a conscious decision than an abrupt gut feeling that something was definitively wrong.

“Craig!” He knocked at the door vehemently.

There was no answer to the doorbell or any of his shouting and Robert found he had no patience; whether that was because of the alcohol in his blood or the alarm sobering his senses. He opened the door and hollered out in the hall. “Craig!”  
Not bothering to close the door, he cast his glace over the open kitchen and living room areas but saw no one. “Craig?”

He heard a sound from upstairs. Robert gripped the white banisters and bolted up to the second floor. “Craig!?”

The baby stirred from the commotion when he entered her room and he found the other man on the floor in front of the crib. He was slumped against the wall, clutching his chest, and looked up at him with an anguished expression.

“Shit! Man!” Robert rushed to his side, dropping to his knees next to him. “What’s wrong?!”

Up close Craig looked almost worse. He was looking poorly and breathing very rapidly and when he tried grab Robert’s shirt, he noticed that not only was he shaking but his skin was covered with a sheen of cold sweat.

“Robert!” Craig voice was weak as he tried to focus on Robert’s face, eyes full of fear.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you!” He grabbed the younger man’s shaking biceps. “I’ve got you!”

 _Shit!_ Where was his phone? He vaguely remembered leaving his jacket in his living room. Probably. “Shit!”

“Where is your phone?” He asked Craig.

“Kitchen.” Craig didn’t let go of his shirt, holding on to him as if his life depended on it.

“Craig, let me go! I need to get your phone and call 911!”

He squeezed Craig’s shoulder to reassure him and winced as this seemed to cause the other pain. “I’ll be back in a second!”

A small nod and Craig let go of his shirt.

Robert peripherally registered that River had sat up and was looking confused and anxious as he rushed out of the room, bumping into the doorframe. _Goddamn, fucking alcohol!_

Stumbling down the stairwell and almost falling down the last couple of stairs, he found the phone on the kitchen counter. His mind was alert in emergency mode but he registered that the edges of his cognition were hazy. As was his coordination. He fumbled with the device to unlock the emergency call function and after successfully dialing 911 he sprinted up the stairs again.

“911. What is your emergency?” The EMS operator answered the call.

“My neighbor.” Robert puffed. “He has some kind of… Where the fuck do you think you’re going!” He found Craig trying to get up and move towards the crib. He was barely managing, shaking heavily and struggling for air while clenching his chest with one arm. “River…”

Robert rushed on his knees and put a hand on Craig’s shoulder to get him to sit back down again. “She will be fine, kiddo, stay put!”

Craig sagged back down against the wall, panting. He never stopped gasping for air, and Robert watched him closely as he let his head fall back against the baby blue wallpaper. There was a sharp intake of breath and, clenching his teeth, Craig’s face contorted in pain.

“Sir, can you tell to me what is going on?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Robert tried to concentrate his muddled mind. “I’m sorry, the baby…” He tried to block out River’s beginning mewling – that was not the most important now – and to refocus on the EMS operator. “I found my neighbor. On the floor of his house. He is obviously in pain and having trouble breathing.”

“Is he injured?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Robert scrutinized Craig. He was sweating and struggling to breathe.

“Can you ask him where he is in pain?”

“Craig, where are you hurting?” He sounded more urgent that he had intended to.

“Chest. Shoulder. And arm.” He managed to say before his vision lost focus, his eyes darted around and then he abruptly looked away from Robert and tried to turn away. And whether it might have been his own expertise in the matter that helped him to understand what was going on and react so quickly, but Robert managed to jump up and push a waste basket towards the other man just in time for him to throw up.

Robert watched him brace his hand on the floor and heave into the bin while still clutching his heart with the other hand.

“He says the pain is in his chest, shoulder and arm.” He relayed to the emergency operator.

“Did your neighbor just throw up?”

“Yes, he is currently doing that.”

Craig gasped for air between heaving, his whole body trembling.

“Your neighbor might be having a heart-attack.” The EMS operator explained.

Robert could hear that River was clearly upset, her mewling whines interspersed with unhappy bleating.

“I can track your location via GPS and have sent an ambulance to your location. Can you please confirm the address?”

“It’s, I think… 27 Marrow’s Close. The second house on the left, at the cul-de-sac.” Robert wedged the phone between his head and shoulder and clasped Craig’s shoulders to assist him to lean back against the wall. He was worse for wear… “How long are you gonna take?”

“There is a hospital nearby, so it won’t take too long. Help will be there in about 10 minutes.”

“Can you tell me your neighbor’s name.”

“Craig...” He trailed off. _Dammit!_ His mind blanked out on him.

“Craig, what’s your last name?”

“Cahn.” He managed between breaths.

“Craig Cahn.” Robert supplied.

“Thank you, Mr. …?”

“Small, Robert Small.”

“Thank you, Mr. Small.”

“It shouldn’t take long for the paramedics to arrive.”

Rivers soft crying grew louder and more fraught with every minute.

“In the meantime, you can also help.”

“If he is not throwing up anymore, you should have him slowly chew and swallow an aspirin to help to minimize possible blood clotting. Could you make sure, he is not allergic to aspirin.”

“Are you allergic to aspirin?”

Craig shook is his head. He looked exhausted. And still struggling for air and hurting.

Robert reached out to brush back Craig’s drenched bangs. “Do you have any?”

He shook his head again. _Figures!_ He and his family probably never even had as much as a headache.

“No aspirin!” Robert told the operator. Not that he himself had any.

“That’s okay. Make sure that your neighbor lies or sits in a comfortable position and try to put him at ease. If you can, help him if he needs to throw up again. Stay by his side and try to keep him calm. And try to remain calm yourself.”

Easier said than done. River was wailing now. And Robert could see that this distressed Craig, who already looked very strained, even more. His eyes kept darting to the crib and if anything, his pain seemed worse. His knuckles were white where they clenched his heart. “Please get River!” He screwed his eyes up and was taking very rapid, shallow breaths.

Robert looked to the crib and back to Craig, who gave a barely suppressed whimper of pain.  
_What do I do? What the fuck do I do?!_ Robert couldn’t take the fact that he couldn’t really help Craig or calm him down, with River crying. This simply wouldn’t do!

“Is there anybody that can help you?” The operator asked.

Robert suddenly sat back on his heels. “Wait a second!” He told the operator as well as Craig.

Leaving the phone on the floor, he got up to his feet, moved to one of the windows facing northward and thrust it open.

Quickly glancing around himself, Robert grabbed a huge book from a dresser and flung it out of the window and against the window of the next-door house. “Mat!” He yelled and reached for a lamp only to rip it out of its socket and haul it after the book. The lamp shattered against the window frame. “Mat, get up!”  
A light switched on in the other house and seconds later Mat anxiously appeared at the window, still putting on his glasses.  
When he saw Robert yelling from the other house, he opened his window, utterly rattled. “Mat, get over here! Right now!” Robert’s tone left no room for objection.

“Stop, wait! Do you have aspirin?! Bring aspirin!” And with that Robert shut the window and was gone, leaving a very anxious neighbor to hustle to his medicine cabinet.

“Okay!” He pronounced. “Mat will be here soon!”

Craig only looked at the other man with huge eyes before his face contorted in pain again.

Robert leaned down into the crib to pick up the distraught baby; her face was red and scrunched up from crying. “It’s okay, River!” He clasped her to his side. “Your Daddy is gonna be fine!”

Well, that was something, he needed to tell all three of them!

“And Mat is gonna be here soon to take care of you!” Robert felt an acute headache as he knelt back down next to Craig. The other man squinted his eyes open to look at them. And Robert gave him a nod of reassurance before picking up the phone again.

“Mister Small?”

“I’m here. Got somebody to come over.” The operator surely must have heard River’s crying now, if she hadn’t before. “I’ve got his daughter now… And somebody to take care of her.” Was he even still making sense?

Not long after, hurried footsteps could be heard from the stairwell and Mat stood in the doorway, blister of aspirin in hand. “Man, what…?!” He broke off.

“Please, take River!” Robert implored him. Mat frowned worriedly but walked over and knelt down next to them. “Craig?!” He placed a hand on his shin.

“Give me the aspirin!” Robert told him and handed him the infant. “And try to calm River down!”

Mat gave both men a concerned look but took the utterly unsettled baby from Robert’s arms. Like a reflex, he immediately rocked her and soothingly caressed her head and face.  
He tried to catch Robert’s eyes for some sort of explanation but the other man had already returned his attention completely back to Craig.

“Mat’s here now: River is gonna be fine!” Robert tried to put him at ease. “And you’re gonna be fine, too!”

With his labored breathing, Craig had a hard time concealing his whimpers of pain now. His arms were shaking visibly.

River kept leaning away towards her father and tried to reach out to him with one arm.  
Still rocking her and holding her head with a gentle hand, Mat left the room to help calm her and Craig down. Talking to her softly, he took her downstairs to the living room.

“Here, take this!” Following advice from the EMS operator on the other end of the phone, Robert offered Craig an aspirin tablet to chew and swallow slowly.

“It’s gonna be okay!” Robert reassured him, grabbing his left hand, balled to a fist on his thigh. “Help is on the way!”

He scooted closer to sit next to Craig by the wall, still holding his hand in what he hoped was a calming touch.

“Try taking steady breaths, kiddo!” Robert suggested. “You’re gonna be good!”

Craig tried to follow his advice, succeeding minimally. “It’s. Hard.”

“It’s good, you’re doing good!” Robert glanced at Craig’s face. He wouldn’t ever attest that the thick droplets forming at the younger man’s lashes were anything but sweat. “Hurts.” Craig gasped between breaths. “A lot.”

“It’s okay!” Robert tried to comfort him. _Bullshit!_ How was this okay?! It wasn’t okay at all!

Robert felt Craig’s hand spasm but stop right before clutching Robert’s hand too tightly. Robert watched his hand in consternation. Was he holding back even now?

“You know, kiddo.” He said. “I’m not made of glass!”

“And you don’t have to pretend any longer. River is not in the room anymore. Nobody is here!”

Craig turned his head resting against the wall to look at him, panting.

“Don’t mind me!” Robert tried for a wry smile. “I’m plowed. I won’t remember any of this tomorrow.” That wasn’t exactly true anymore, was it? But if it got Craig to relax.

He closed his eyes and let his head roll back. And a sob of pain broke from his lips.

“It’s okay!” Robert reassured him.

Craig shuddered and then let go. And Robert felt him close his wrist like he had before, almost crushing his own hand. And, damn…did that hurt!

If it helped Craig to cope with the pain, he would just have to endure it, but, man, hadn’t he expected that! For whatever reason he hadn’t? Craig was basically all muscle and it was to be expected that his grip was strong.

Hopefully his heart was, too.

\---

Robert continued to hold Craig’s hand until blue light was seen flashing through the windows. Seconds later two paramedics entered the room, and knelt to check on Craig.

Robert made room for them, consequentially stepping out of the small nursery, and his feet carried him downstairs in a daze.  
Mat stood anxiously in the living room in his purple pajama pants and obscure 80’s band shirt. River was fisting his shirt and barely managed to stay awake. She blinked and when she saw Robert, she reached out for him to take her. This alone must have been testament to how confused she was, Robert thought, knitting his eyebrows. Mat was certainly the better choice. But they humored her and Robert took the little girl, who immediately dropped her heavy, little head to his chest.

For the second time that night, Robert let himself sink into a sofa, this time more gently. His hand throbbed, as did his head. He didn’t think, he could bring himself to get up anymore.

He furrowed his brows and looked up when Mat addressed him.

“I can’t go the hospital – I have Carmensita – but I can take River for the night.”

Robert nodded.

“Somebody should be at the hospital!” Mat eyed him.

Robert huffed after a moment. “You know I’m pretty much useless…?!” The other man glowered at that. “And I most certainly shouldn’t drive!”

Mat sighed. How could Robert even say that. “You found Craig in the first place!”  
And before Robert could contradict him, he hurried to add. “You should go with Dave. They’re friends, right? We should go, wake him up!”

Robert didn’t say anything to that but that was as good as a yes.

“Hazel and Briar are probably at a sleepover.” Mat continued. “But I don’t know when they will be back or who they’re actually staying with. Neither do I know how to contact their mother.” He sighed again.

“Hey, it’s Craig we’re talking about, he probably has a neat family planner hung somewhere in the kitchen and an emergency contact list laying around.” Mat looked at Robert in astonishment. “Are you sure, you’re drunk?”

“Very much so!” Robert affirmed. “Or at least I was…” But he was interrupted when the paramedics came down the flight of stairs.

He let Mat talk to them and spare River the commotion and the sight of her dad being pushed out of the house on a gurney. Also, as high-strung as the adrenalin made him, he felt dead tired.

Mat returned some seconds after the ambulance had left the driveway. Robert did not feel great.

“You were right, there is a calendar saying the twins are staying at somebody called Savana’s place and there is a list of the softball team and their parents along with contact numbers. Savana seems to be on the team and her mother’s number, Rachel, is on the list.”  
Robert held up his arm as if to say _told you so_. He did not feel good at all.  
“I will contact her first thing in the morning.” Mat concluded.

“There you go!” He got up and pressed River into Mat’s arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute.” Mat noticed his hands were shaking as he took the unhappy infant from him, and Robert disappeared back upstairs into the bathroom. Mat made a face.  
He busied himself with finding Craig’s house keys and wallet and actually found an emergency contact card inside, including the number of the girls’ mother.  
He switched off the kitchen and living room lights and went back upstairs to get River’s blanket turn out the light in her room.

“You should take the other thing, too!” Bent over the crib, Mat jumped slightly when Robert suddenly stood in the doorway. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Little stitched together plushy, can’t sleep without that thing or something.”  
Mat leaned back into the crib to find the toy and stuffed it between his chest and the fitfully slumbering girl.

He went to switch off the light in the River’s room.

“You okay?” Mat asked, scanning the other man worriedly.

“Peachy!” Was all he got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did my research but if something seems really off to those of you in the medical profession, don't hesistate to tell me.
> 
> Since my mind aparently can't work linearly, I already have over 10k words of various bits and pieces of later chapters. I hope I'll be able to update the next chapter sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this so far and would like to know where this “Spanish soap opera” is going, please consider leaving kudos and comments. Let’s be honest, these really help any writer to keep going. 
> 
> I have never written anything in 1. person POV or the present but it seemed appropriate regarding the original work and so I gave it a try.  
> Yeah, okay, I might have swiched to 3. person POV and past tense in the narrative flashback chapters. But stylistically that might even make sense. *reasoning my head off*
> 
> I'd like to formally apologize to all of those who are in the medical profession. I know how annoying it is that people create completely unrealistic scenarios just to crank up the angst factor. Although this is not something that only fanfiction is guilty of but as far as I understand a lot of original works, too.  
> So, anyhow, I usually like to research the shit out of the internet about every damn detail and then never manage to finish that WIP and since this is kind of an attempt to overcome that pattern, I only did cursory research.  
> I did read papers on the early heart-attack thing and stress related causes but there might be other things in the following chapters that are not a 100% accurate. For that I'm sorry.   
> But this, after all, is only is for fun it and me trying to get back into writing.


End file.
